


FIC: Ripples of Undoing

by trancer



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Dark, F/F, Femslash, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-21
Updated: 2010-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:46:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trancer/pseuds/trancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Season 2. When Cara goes missing, Zedd must face the consequences that the ‘Spell of Undoing‘ did more than return Cara as a Mord‘Sith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FIC: Ripples of Undoing

It should have been Richard Kahlan first noticed as she stirred awake, the warmth of his body flush against her side, arm draped over her middle, his breath warm against her neck.

It should have been Richard Kahlan first noticed. She did not. Stirring awake, Kahlan opened her eyes and they immediately went to the empty bedroll across the fire. The fire that was nothing more than dying embers, crackling and spitting softly.

Cara had been distant, almost sullen since they’d defeated the Keeper and closed the rift to the Underworld. But, she still performed her duties, even if Richard deemed it unnecessary. In the weeks that followed, as they made their trek to the People’s Palace so Richard could take his place as the Lord Rahl and restore peace to the Midlands, Cara had watched over them like a hawk. First to take watch at night and, every morning, the fire would be bright and warm, the smell of whatever Cara had caught during her night hunt wafting into their noses.

Except this morning.

This morning, the fire was cold as was Cara’s bedroll. And Kahlan felt something she hadn’t felt in weeks - a trickle of fear running down her spine.

“Richard,” she said, jostling his arm as she moved the blanket off her and rolled to her knees.

He mumbled, rolling onto his back, accustomed to the weeks of peace they’d found since defeating the Keeper.

“Richard!” she said again, her tone and volume enough to even stir the wizard across from them. Richard’s eyes snapped open, his hand instinctively going to the Sword of Truth he always kept within hands reach. Eyes blinking, he gazed at her.

“Where’s Cara?” Kahlan asked.

“Kahlan,” Richard sighed, easing back onto their bedroll, eyes already drifting closed. “She’s probably still hunting.”

“All night?” Kahlan rose to her feet. She walked towards the dying fire, squatting down and running her fingers through the ashes. While Richard attempted to drift back to sleep, Kahlan’s concern had reached Zedd’s ears. His brows furrowed as Kahlan’s eyes met his.

“It’s morning,” Kahlan said to the wizard. “When has Cara never returned before morning?”

“Richard?” Zedd’s voice rumbled as he yanked off his blanket. They may have defeated the Keeper, it didn’t mean there were no more dangers to be found in the Midlands.

**

They searched for hours, Richard hacking through the dense foliage with his sword as he tracked Cara’s trail through the forest. The trail circled around their camp and Richard surmised Cara had merely slept in the forest for the night and she was probably back at camp cursing them for following after her.

It seemed plausible, the first hour. Then, Cara’s trail veered, like she’d been hunting. And Kahlan saw the concerned look on Richard’s face and he confirmed her fears, Cara hadn’t been hunting, she’d been chasing something. Her footsteps were far apart, the branches broken haphazardly instead of cautiously.

They entered a small clearing and there it was - Richard’s bow - on the ground, half buried beneath the grass.

“How long has it been here?” Kahlan asked.

Lips pursed as he clenched his jaw tight, Richard inhaled deeply through his nose. “All night.”

Kahlan stifled the trembling of her lower lip, feeling as guilty as Richard felt. All night. All night, while they were laughing, eating the dinner Cara had caught, snuggling comfortably and safely on their bedroll, kissing, caressing, whispering their plans for the next time they would be together, Cara had been in danger. Cara. The one who’d protected them, placed herself without thought or pause in harm’s way for them. The one who’d died for them.

She’d been in danger and all the while they’d been laughing.

Richard placed a hand on Kahlan’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Kahlan.”

**

An hour later, they found one of Cara’s Agiel’s, like they’d found Richard’s bow, half buried under the grass.

“Zedd!” Richard called out as he removed his vest and bundled the Agiel to keep from touching the magic rod.

“What is it?” he asked, stepping towards Richard.

Richard pointed to a spot in the grass where Cara’s Agiel had been. The dirt black and scorched as if it had been burned.

Zedd ran his fingers through the soot, rubbed it between forefinger and thumb before bringing it to his nose. His snowy white brows furrowed as a rumbling growl rose from his throat. His look one Kahlan and Richard had seen many times before. It didn’t need to be said..

“Powerful magic.”

But, Zedd said it anyway.

The snap of a twig, the rustle of a branch and all three were rushing into the forest towards the sound.

Another clearing, a circle of blackened earth on the ground.

And Shota, kneeling down, running her fingers through the soot.

Richard pulled his sword, Zedd at his flank, hand already raised as his fingers splayed open.

“What have you done to Cara?” Richard shouted.

“I haven’t done anything to your Mord’Sith.” Shota brushed the dirt off her knees before rising to her full height. She turned her head towards Zedd, her gaze dark and commanding. “Zedd has.”

“Shota,” Zedd growled. “We don’t have time for your games.”

“You think it would be the Wizard’s First Rule,” she smiled angrily. “Don’t play God.”

Kahlan stepped towards Zedd, her eyes going towards the wizard. “She’s talking about the Spell of Undoing, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Shota answered, her eyes still on Zedd. “You didn’t think there would be consequences, did you Zedd? We’ve all felt the ripples.”

Zedd folded his arms defensively over his chest. The differences were subtle between the Shota Zedd knew and the Shota of this world. The stitching on her robes. The way she wore her hair. There was always a darkness in Shota but, in this Shota, it practically radiated off her. In this world, their paths had crossed. Zedd just had no idea which way the roads had traveled. “I did what I had to.”

“Did you?” Shota said, a brow rising. “Or did you go with what was easier because you couldn’t bare the solution that was right in front of your face?”

There was a moment, where Shota’s eyes flicked towards Kahlan and Zedd shifted uncomfortably. And Kahlan had to look away to keep the pink from flushing her cheeks.

“Enough!” Richard shouted, hands tightening around the hilt of his sword. “If you know where Cara is, then tell us!”

The smile on Shota’s lips broadened. “I’ll tell you where she is. But, who took her? You’ll have to discover that on your own. And believe me,” she paused, eyes darkening as she affixed her gaze squarely on Zedd. “You are not going to like what you find.”

**

The temple had been abandoned long ago. Long before the fall of Darken Rahl and his subsequent resurrection by the Keeper. The walls were tall, thick and strong. But even walls tall, thick and strong were not enough to fight the forces of time and the elements. There were stones on the floors under broken windows. The stones thrown by villagers no longer afraid of the temple now that its walls were empty, daring to show their anger. Red and black banners littered the corridors, aged and weathered by the winds. The rooms, corridors and halls sacked and plundered, anything that remained destroyed beyond repair.

Inside the temple, the walls were silent. Except, down below, where the walls still echoed with the song of torture.

In the pit, familiar to her as both breaker and broken, naked, hanging by the cuffs binding her wrists, Cara Mason screamed. The blade stopped its slow line down her back.

“Finally,” a voice taunted. “The great Cara Mason screams.”

Cara panted, licking lips cracked and bleeding. “I have.. accepted my fate.”

“So you’re saying you deserve this?”

“Yes.” Her head lolled forward. “It is an honorable death.”

A hand snaked into her hair, fisting, yanking Cara’s head back. “There is nothing honorable about you! You are nothing more than a monster hiding behind a veil of duty. How many have you killed?” The hand gripped tighter, pulling. “How many!?!”

“Hundreds.”

“Were they men?”

“Yes.”

“Women?”

“Yes.”

“The elderly? The sick? The feable?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” Cara hissed. “I have plead guilty to every crime you have accused me of. What more do you want from me?”

Grip firm, Cara‘s tormenter leaned into her, lips ghosting by an ear. “Did you kill children?”

There was no shame in an honorable death. But there was shame in Cara’s eyes as she deflated at the question and her eyes stung from the salt filling the corners. “Yes.”

The dagger, still dripping with Cara’s blood, lifted, the blade pressed along Cara’s throat. “Do you remember their names?” The blade dug in, creating a new line amongst the many on Cara’s neck. “I will give you an honorable death if you can tell me one thing, Cara. What was my son’s name?”

Cara had no answer. Cara never had an answer. And the blade pulled away from her neck as it had a half dozen times before, right before the torture resumed again.

Cara’s tormenter circled around the pit, and Cara watched as a hand was raised and splayed fingers were moving towards Cara’s throat.

“This,” Dennee said with eyes gone mad from ultimate sorrow. “Is going to hurt.”

Cara lifted her head in acceptance and the hope that maybe, this time, Dennee would finally end this.

The door burst open as Dennee’s fingers connected with Cara’s throat and the walls echoed with the song of torture.

They entered, almost as one, Richard, Kahlan and Zedd. But, it was Zedd who’s eyes widened the most with shock. Because this was Dennee Amnell. Kahlan’s sister. The Dennee who’d never died. The Dennee who’d never been resurrected.

“Take another step,” Dennee said, her black eyes pointed towards her sister as Cara twitched and spasmed, the scream choking in the back of her throat. “And I will end her right here and now.”

“Dennee!” Kahlan hissed, already halfway into the room, daggers drawn. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Dennee laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“But why? What about the child?” Zedd asked. “The orphaned child you chose to raise..”

“Quit speaking gibberish, old man,” Dennee growled, tightening her grip around Cara’s throat. “This is between me and my sister.”

“Kahlan?” Richard asked nervously, unwilling to lower the sword pointed at Dennee.

“Dennee’s right. This is between the two of us.” Kahlan stepped between her sister and Richard and Zedd, a look of resolve on her face. “I need the two of you to leave..”

“Kahlan..” Zedd gasped.

“Now!” she commanded. Richard and Zedd shared a glance before both made their way towards the door. Kahlan followed, holding the handle as both men exited. “No matter what happens,” she warned before closing the door and separating the men from the two sisters. “Do *not* enter this room.”

The door closed, the lock latching into place with a hard and resounding thud. Kahlan turned towards her sister and Dennee removed the hand from Cara’s throat, Cara coughing and sputtering as her body went slack.

The two sisters contrasted as they slowly circled each other, light hair to dark, white robes to green leathers.

“Dennee,” Kahlan asked. “Why are you doing this?”

“Do you know what day it is?” Dennee asked and Kahlan shook her head. “It’s my son’s birthday. I thought it fitting to celebrate it by ending the life of the woman who ended his.” She turned her gaze towards Cara. “The woman who didn’t even know his name before she killed him.”

“I..” Kahlan stammered, fingers flexing around the hilts of her daggers. “I thought we discussed this?”

“No, Kahlan,” she spat. “You *talked*. I was only allowed to listen. I thought, maybe if I just let you say the words you’d realize how ridiculous you sounded. And you dare to call yourself the Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan stiffened at the accusation, lifting her chin. “I did what I thought was right. Cara is important to Richard..”

Dennee continued circling, stopping only when she’d placed herself, once more, between Kahlan and Cara. “If Richard wants a Mord’Sith there are over a hundred who’d fall at his side in a heartbeat. Do you even hear yourself? How easily the lie falls from your lips?”

“I’m not lying!” Kahlan said. Her eyes darted to Cara, who’s head cautiously moved back and forth. She’d sacrifice herself a thousand times over for Kahlan and she’d already accepted this fate.

“I am a Confessor, Kahlan. I am also your sister. And I know you better than anyone. Better than Richard.” She turned on her heel, stalking towards Cara. “Certainly better than this Mord’Sith.”

“This isn’t the way, Dennee..”

Dennee‘s hand reached out again, clasping around Cara‘s throat. Cara‘s mouth immediately going slack as the scream choked in the back of her throat. “She murdered my child, Kahlan!” Dennee hissed through clenched teeth. “She almost killed me!”

Her fingers gripped her daggers resolutely. “I know..”

“Then tell me why this monster still lives. Tell me what makes her so important her life is worth more than the hundreds she took?”

“I..” Kahlan stammered.

“She’s right,” Cara, who’d been a silent witness, croaked. “I’ve done everything she’s accused me of. Why won’t you let it be?”

“See!” Dennee cried out. “Even she agrees she should be punished. Dammit!” Dennee twisted her head towards Kahlan, wet trails streaming down her cheeks. “Just.. say it, Kahlan. Admit the truth!”

“There is no truth to admit!” Kahlan barked back.

Inhaling deeply, Dennee released her fingers from Cara’s throat, bowing her head. “Did you even mourn for me when you thought I was dead?”

“Of course I did!”

“And my child?” She tilted her head back, rolling her shoulders as if shifting a giant weight.

“Yes, by the Creator, Dennee..”

Dennee walked towards her sister, her steps slow and calculated. She didn’t stop until they were a foot apart. There was a solemnness in her eyes but also a darkness, anger. “And how long did you wait to lie with her again after you’d learned what she’d done? Were you as quick to spread your legs for her..”

The backhand was quick, hard, Kahlan’s hand slinging like a snake striking. Dennee’s head whipped back. Just as quickly as she struck, Kahlan shrank back, stunned at hitting her own sister. Dennee merely shook her head, widening her eyes to clear the cobwebs fogging her brain.

“I..” Kahlan stammered. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s just it, Kahlan. You‘re not,” Dennee sighed. Sighed like a warrior who’d realized the war had been lost. “I tried to warn the Mother Confessor but she was too blinded by her own guilt regarding our mother’s death. Too blinded by the good and pure person you so deftly pretended to be. I warned her. Our mother’s blood may burn in your veins but so does our father’s..”

“Dennee,” Kahlan growled, hands already curling into fists.

Unafraid, Dennee continued, “And you’re more like our father than you’ll ever be our mother. More than you can ever admit to yourself. It‘s in your eyes, Kahlan. A flicker of darkness you and everyone else refuses to see. It‘s what draws you to her.”

“The only darkness in me is the darkness necessary to survive.”

“Then tell me why I, as a Confessor, can’t kill the woman who murdered my own child? And choose your words carefully, sister. Because even you are one who should face consequences.”

“Because..” Kahlan lowered her head, inhaling a large breath. Then, she lifted her eyes, eyes cold and dark and pointed them at her sister. “Because I am the Mother Confessor and my word is law.”

Dennee swallowed, blinking back the tears burning her eyes as the last brick between she and Kahlan set firmly in place. Hands clasped together before her, she bowed her head respectfully and began walking towards the door. Pausing, head lowered as she turned slightly towards Kahlan, Dennee spoke again, “Remember this day, Kahlan. The day you chose the woman who murdered your sister’s child over your own blood. Remember because, after this day, you and I are no longer sisters. Should we ever cross paths again,” Dennee paused, lifting the latch to the lock and opening the door. “I will kill you both.”

Before the door had a chance to close again, Richard and Zedd were immediately in the room. Kahlan turned from them both, turned towards Cara.

“Help me,” she said, her voice weak and soft. “Help me get her down.”

**

Zedd stepped through the broken doors of the temple’s entrance, walking outside. Kahlan had been incredibly finicky when it came to Cara’s recovery, making them wait a bit longer than necessary before continuing their journey to the People‘s Palace. Though his bones were old and weary, they itched for the feel of movement, anything to get them away from the old Mord’Sith temple.

Stepping closer to the forest’s edge, Zedd stretched and flexed, muscles protesting, bones popping. The air was warm, the sky crystal clear as morning turned to afternoon, Zedd gave a parting glance to the temple behind him, noting the stark contrast of the temple’s cold, drab walls against the beauty of the forest backdrop.

He allowed such thoughts to roll off his shoulders. The temple was abandoned and, hopefully, many more would close their doors in the upcoming days. There was still the threat of Darken Rahl but the Keeper had been defeated and once Richard arrived at the People’s Palace to make his claim as the true Lord Rahl, the long road to a lasting peace could be begun.

“Looks like a beautiful day, doesn‘t it?”

Zedd spun towards the sound of Shota’s voice. Brows furrowing, arms folding over his chest, he watched as she stepped out of the forest.

“But,” Shota stopped several paces from where Zedd stood, a coy eyebrow raising. “We both know looks can be deceiving especially when it concerns beauty.”

“What do you want, Shota?” Zedd grumbled.

Shota tutted. “Such distrust for someone who helped you save your friend. I take it the Mord’Sith is fine?”

“Yes,” Zedd ran a hand over his chin. “You saw to that, didn’t you?” His eyes narrowed even further. “And, I ask, what do you want?”

She inhaled deeply, taking a glance at the ground before her before taking another step forward. “A moment of your time. A little trust.”

“We’ve known each for too long for me to give my trust so easily.”

“Except,” she lifted her chin, her look challenging. “You don’t know me at all. You changed the world, Zedd. You played God. I’m merely here to offer this God a glimpse of the world he’s created.”

Zedd shifted, an air of nervousness in his stance. He would go to his grave believing he’d done the right thing with the Spell of Undoing. Twice. But, as a Wizard of the First Order, he knew every spell cast carried the possibility of consequences, from the inconsequential to the life threatening. He trusted Shota about as far as he could throw her and, as a wizard, that was pretty far. In this instance, Zedd had no choice. The appearance of Dennee showed him the world he’d arrived in, the world he’d created held more differences than Cara remaining a Mord’Sith.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Then show me.”

“It won’t be so easy. The great Zeddicus Zorander will have to find it within himself to allot me some trust.”

“Fine,” Zedd exhaled as his eyes darkened. “But, I warn you, Shota, if you try anything..”

Shota chuckled. “A bit of irony, don’t you think?” She waved a hand, stepping closer towards Zedd. “No matter. Trust or not, your eyes will be opened Zeddicus Zorander.”

She reached out, placing a hand on Zedd’s arm. A glowing mist circled quickly around them, dancing with sparks of light. The spell familiar to Zedd, he’d used the transporting spell many times in his long life. So Zedd braced himself, preparing for the worst as the magic took him and the forest and the Mord’Sith temple disappeared before his eyes.

**

Zedd almost gasped as the magic receded and he took in his surroundings. He’d been here before and where the Mord’Sith temple filled him with dread, here, he was filled with light. Literally.

Shota had taken him to the Palace of the Prophets, to the Sisters of the Light.

“Zeddicus Zorander?”

Zedd turned towards Sister, now Prelate, Verna’s voice, his lips stretching into a wide smile as she approached Zedd and Shota.

Verna smiled, clasping her hands around Zedd’s. “What are you doing here?”

An eyebrow rose as Zedd turned his gaze towards the woman standing next to him. “You’ll have to ask her.”

Shota nodded her head respectfully towards Verna. The familiar look and unspoken conversation between the two women didn’t go unnoticed by the wizard as did the sudden feeling of unease he could feel deep in his bones. “Sadly, our dear Zedd hear had a bit of a knock during his battle with the Keeper. I was hoping, by bringing him here, he’d remember some of the more pertinent details regarding what‘s at stake.”

Zedd’s unease turned to a full blown concern off the look on the Prelate’s face. Her eyes widened in shock at Shota’s words, projecting the thought that whatever Zedd had forgotten was of great importance.

“Of course,” she said after recovering herself. Threading her arm through his, as if Zedd were a senile old man, Verna quickly lead the them to the Vault.

The thick stone doors swayed open easily, bathing them in the light of hundreds of candles. Zedd followed Verna, walking inside the cavernous room. It was as he remembered it but different. The walls were higher, covered with dozens more prophecies. They were familiar - the birth of the Seeker in Brennidon, the crack in the veil between the Midlands and Westland, a Confessor, a Wizard.

Zedd inhaled, pursing his lips. These prophecies weren’t anything he didn’t already know. “Why have you brought me here?” he asked aloud to no one in particular.

He felt Shota’s presence closing towards his shoulder. “You were always so selective when it came to which prophecies you chose to believe,” she paused, guiding with her head as she turned. “Look closer.”

Zedd followed as Shota walked the long path towards the far wall of the Vault. The first prophecies were familiar, known to Zedd, but as they walked, the prophecies changed from what he knew into the unfamiliar. And his unease, his concern turned to a stomach churning dread.

They reached the far end of the wall, to the latest prophecy sent by the Creator. And the dread in Zedd’s stomach twisted and churned, bile rising in the back of his throat.

“By the Creator..” he could only gasp. The depth of what he’d done, what he’d _undone_ hitting him like a punch to the stomach. He spun on his feet, his eyes like blue gems on saucers of milk. “Shota! We have to go back! We have to find Richard!”

Shota..

Was no longer there.

**

In the abandoned temple, behind a hidden corridor only the Mord’Sith knew was the Lord Rahl’s chambers, untouched by the looters that had rampaged the temple years ago.

Cara stirred on the bed meant for Lord Rahl and not the Mord’Sith who served him. Awakened by the hand with lightly callused fingertips grazing gently over her bare stomach. She opened her eyes to see twinkling blue eyes and pink lips curled into a soft smile.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, stretching casually only to be reminded of why she’d slept so laboriously.

“Three days,” Kahlan answered. With her free hand, she reached for the cup filled with water on the table, waiting until Cara raised her head before bringing it to Cara’s lips.

Swallowing too quickly, Cara coughed and sputtered in a manner most undignified for a Mord’Sith. Resting her head back on the pillow, she wiped her mouth with the back of a hand. “Where’s Richard?”

“Richard is,” Kahlan chuckled mirthlessly. “Sated.”

“As much as he denies it,” Cara responded flatly, closing her eyes. Sliding an arm up the mattress and tucking her hand behind her head. “He has the appetite of a true Rahl.”

“That he does,” Kahlan sighed.

Cara opened her eyes at the tinge of melancholy in Kahlan‘s voice. “And Zedd?”

“Zedd’s disappeared. Probably meddling in someone else’s affairs.” She returned her gaze to the fingers playing once again across the surface of Cara’s stomach. “I’m sorry.”

Cara leaned her head towards Kahlan. “For what?”

“For not realizing you were missing sooner.”

“We both have our duties. You were merely fulfilling yours. As I said, Richard has the appetites of a Rahl..”

“I’m not a whore,” Kahlan spat, eyes flashing with anger.

“Kahlan,” Cara sighed, placing her hand atop the one on her stomach and bringing it to her lips to kiss the backs of Kahlan’s knuckles. A point of contention between them. Serving the Lord Rahl in the manner he saw fit had been ingrained in Cara, so deeply until it was as natural as breathing. The Confessor and Seeker through time had always been two sides of the same coin. The Confessor bound to the Seeker as Mord’Sith to the Lord Rahl. Cara could never quite understand Kahlan’s reluctance to fully serve the Seeker, even though she knew Kahlan’s ulterior motives.

“I would never call you a whore,” she paused, opening her lips to allow her tongue to draw over Kahlan’s knuckles as she kissed. “Unless you asked me to.”

Appeased, mouth curling into a soft smile, Kahlan leaned down, bringing their lips together. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Cara purred into Kahlan‘s mouth. “I’d like that very much.”

“I’m still sorry,” Kahlan breathed, leaning back and bringing her fingers to Cara‘s face, tracing around the bruises. “For letting her do this to you.”

“A small price to pay,” Cara smiled. “Once I knew her true intentions, forcing you to order my execution, it was merely a waiting game until you arrived. So, it is I who must apologize to you. For failing to kill her when I had the chance.”

“You..” Kahlan paused, brows furrowing as she licked her lips contemplatively. “Killed the child. That’s all that really matters. Richard’s faith in the goodness of humanity borders on the naïve. I should have done what needed to be done back then, instead of allowing Richard to sway me in my duties.”

“But, if he hadn’t,” Cara lifted onto an elbow, pulling the hand on her face down to her breast. “We never would have met.”

Kahlan chuckled. “A Confessor asking for a Mord’Sith’s assistance. Who would have thought?”

Green eyes turned hungry, watching her fingers as they wove into the laces covering Kahlan’s cleavage. “I believe you asked for more than my assistance.”

Kahlan looked down at the fingers unlacing her leathers and when she returned her eyes to Cara’s, they were as heated and hungry as the Mord’Sith’s. “I believe I also asked for your allegiance.”

“Mmmhmm,” Cara nodded, tongue running salaciously over her lips, watching the bodice open.

The hand on Cara’s breast became the hand threading into Cara’s hair, tightening into a hard fist, yanking Cara’s head back, her neck craning as the bee-stung lips pulled into a satisfied grin, a feral cat in heat purr rumbling up her throat.

“And who do you serve?” Kahlan growled - serious, playful, threatening.

Neck muscles cording, straining against the pain that streaked through her, Cara grinned. “I serve you, Mistress.”

Kahlan released her grip and pounced, claiming Cara’s lips, open mouthed and sloppy as she slid onto the bed. In time, Dennee would pay for bruising what Kahlan considered rightfully hers. But, those thoughts were incidental, especially when she had Cara beneath her, body trembling with desire aching to be released. Mord’Sith only acquiesced to power, dominance. Kahlan had shown hers that day in the forest when she made Cara hers. She showed it now, with rough hands that pushed and pressed Cara where Kahlan wanted her to be, with lips and teeth that made new marks over the old.

She muscled her way down Cara’s body, shoving open Cara’s legs, lifting her knees, then pressing down on the backs of Cara’s thighs with her hands. Mord’Sith had to be taken. Broken. Kahlan loved to take and she knew one particular way to break Cara.

She mouthed Cara’s sex, moaning at the taste denied her by her own sister. Pulled and suckled on swollen lips and hardened clit, teased and prodded the delicate folds and creases, until Cara was squirming and writhing beneath her, keening like she was breaking, like Kahlan knew how to break her. And when Kahlan plunged her tongue, Cara’s walls squeezing around her as she pushed deep, Cara finally broke.

The Mord’Sith were trained to handle both pain and pleasure. But, even the Mord’Sith had their limits. Kahlan didn’t stop until she felt fingers threading in her hair, softly pleading for mercy. Even then, Kahlan didn’t stop, lapping and licking leisurely until she’d finally had her fill. Afterwards, wiping her mouth with the back of a sleeve, Kahlan immediately rolled off the bed, rising to her feet, fingers tightening the laces on her leathers.

Cara lifted to her elbows, brows crinkling in confusion. “I was hoping I’d have the opportunity to return the favor.”

“Get dressed,” Kahlan ignored the invitation, grabbing Cara’s leathers and tossing them onto the bed. “We’re leaving?”

“Now?”

“Yes,” Kahlan said. “We need to be gone before Zedd returns or Richard wakes up.”

Cara didn’t question, merely scooted off the bed and began putting on her leathers. One of the benefits of having a Mord’Sith’s sworn allegiance.

**

“RICHARD!” Zedd yelled as he rushed through the opened doors of the temple. For the rest of the world, it had been several days. For Zedd, his time in the Palace of the Prophets had been a few hours. Either way, it’d been more than enough.

There was no sign of Cara or Kahlan. Their packs were gone, along with the rest of their belongings. He found Richard in a bedroom, face down on a bed, snoring soundly and loudly, naked as the day he was born.

“Richard!” He shook Richard’s shoulder hard. He grabbed the goblet of wine on the nightstand, his face twisting distastefully at the smell of the evident potion. Richard had been drugged.

“Richard!” Zedd shook him again, harder.

“Mmm,” Richard mumbled sleepily, turning his head and resituating it on the pillow. “Tell Cara she’ll have to wait her turn.”

“RICHARD!!”

Richard’s eyes blearily snapped open. He lifted his head, turning it drunkenly towards the blurry figure standing next to the bed. “Zedd?” he blinked. “Where’s Kahlan?”

Zedd rose to his full height, folding his arms over his chest. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Kahlan’s..” he ran a hand over his face, rubbing the sleep away. “Where are my clothes?”

Zedd bent down and grabbed Richard’s pants off the floor, tossing them haphazardly onto the bed. His eyes scanned about the room and, instantly, he was standing at full height again. “Richard,” he gasped. “Where’s the Sword of Truth?”

**

“Why are we stopping?” Cara asked as Kahlan slowed the horse they shared to a stop. “Richard’s an expert tracker.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kahlan said, already dismounting the horse. “Where we’re going is no secret.”

She grabbed the Sword of Truth still in its scabbard, wrapped in a blanket, and tucked it under her arm. “Stay here,” she commanded.

“Kahlan,” Cara stiffened as she protested.

“I mean it, Cara,” Kahlan inhaled, curbing her anger. “I need to do this alone.”

Certain Cara would not follow, Kahlan entered the forest alone. The hairs on the backs of her neck raising as the forest seemed to close around her, the feel of magic heavy in the air.

The trees opened to a path which lead her to a small stream. There, she found Shota, sitting on a moss covered stone, painting patterns over the water with her fingers. Shota smiled, lifting her dark eyes to Kahlan as she rose to her feet.

“Did you bring me what I asked for?” Shota asked.

“Yes,” Kahlan said, handing the Sword of Truth to Shota. “Did you bring me what I asked for?”

“Of course.” Shota reached into her robes, a small bundle seeming to materialize in her hands. She handed it to Kahlan, watching as Kahlan untied the package and examined the contents - two small clay jars, one colored blue, the other yellow, both sealed with wax. “The blue jar is for you, the yellow for Cara,” Shota explained. “Take one spoonful, no more, no less, once a day until the jars are empty,” she paused at the smile curling Kahlan’s lips. “And Cara will sire you a child.”

“That’s it?” Kahlan asked, brows lifting in disbelief.

“You will have to couple with her. Frequently, I might add.”

Kahlan tilted her head down, crimson flushing her cheeks. She inhaled, regaining her composure. “How long until you name a new Seeker?”

“Not long at all,” Shota pulled the Sword of Truth from its scabbard, the reflection lighting her face. “He’s someone you already know. A blacksmith named Leo.”

“No!” Kahlan snapped. “Choose anyone you wish. But not the blacksmith. He’s had his chance as the Seeker and his time is over.”

Eyes narrowing, Shota still bowed her head respectfully. “As you wish, Mother Confessor. And what about your sister, Dennee? She will find her way to Richard‘s side.”

“I think,” she inhaled solemnly. “Dennee was always meant to be with Richard. My purpose in his life is over.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” Kahlan answered, a darkness coloring her eyes. “For millennia, the Confessor’s have stood beside the Seeker’s. And what has it brought us? A millennia of war, pain, torment. A Rahl for a Seeker!?! And Zedd..” she snorted, tossing a hand in the air. “He’s too blinded by his love for his grandson to see how much Rahl’s blood has poisoned Richard’s veins. No,” she shook her head. “It’s time for a new way. It’s time for the Confessor’s to move out of the shadows of the Seeker’s.”

Shota grinned. “Fortunate for you, the prophecies agree.”

“Thank you,” Kahlan forced a smile, allowing her anger to recede. “For everything.”

She turned, as if moving to leave, then stopped. “Shota?” she paused, lips pursing. “The Mord’Sith’s gifts come from their bond with the Lord Rahl.”

“Yes, you know this.”

“Can..” Kahlan’s face went stony. “Can that bond be severed.. transferred to another?”

Shota’s smile broadened. “You mean, to you?”

“Yes,” Kahlan admitted, lowering her head slightly, afraid she may have revealed too much. “Cara’s loyalties are.. divided. I know they will be swayed by our child but as long as that bond is there, she will always be.. vulnerable. I want that bond with me, and the new bloodline we’ll create before she begins.. recruiting.”

“An army of Mord’Sith serving the Mother Confessor.” Shota’s eyes brightened even as they narrowed, relishing the challenge. “Such a spell has never been tried. Doesn’t mean it can’t be done. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Kahlan bowed her head. “Your allegiance will not be forgotten.”

**

Kahlan found Cara almost exactly where she left her, body rigid, Agiel’s in both hands, prepared for the slightest inclination Kahlan may need her. Only relaxing moments after Kahlan cleared the forest edge, allowing a soft smile to crease her lips.

“One more minute,” Cara said, tucking her Agiel’s away. “And I would have razed the entire forest.”

“I know,” Kahlan chuckled. She walked until they were toe to toe, raising a hand to cup Cara’s chin and lifting so their lips could meet.

“I take it,” Cara tilted her head, curious at the sudden rise of Kahlan’s temperature. “Things went well.”

“MmmHmm,” Kahlan nodded then stepped back enough to lift the bundle in her hands. “Even better.”

Peering down, her fingers grazed over the clay pots. “And what’s this?”

“It’s a potion,” Kahlan beamed. “That will allow us.. me to have your child.”

Cara stiffened, stepping back as if struck, gazing at Kahlan as if the brunette had lost her mind. “Kahlan.. I..”

“Cara,” Kahlan stepped until they were toe to toe once more. She leaned, tilting her head so her lips could brush against Cara’s, feeling Cara’s breath hitch. “You are mine and though you fight it,” she kissed gently. “I am yours. And there’s nothing more that I want in this world than to have your child.”

“But..” Cara closed her eyes, features scrunching like she was fighting Kahlan’s words. Mord’Sith did not dream, yet that was exactly what Kahlan asked of her - to dream. “It’s not possible.”

“If Zedd can change the world,” Kahlan chuckled. “Why can’t we?”

“You were always meant to change the world. I..”

“You were always meant to be by my side. I‘ve known it since that first moment I saw you in the forest.” Kahlan drifted her hand to Cara’s chest, fingers pressed over Cara’s heart. “Tell me you didn’t feel it. Tell me you don’t feel it now?”

“I..” Cara stammered. The Mord’Sith did not feel, a belief ingrained in her since the moment she was stolen from her home in Stowecraft, just as she was ingrained to believe her sole purpose in life was to serve Lord Rahl. That internal battle, between what she believed versus what she felt, played plainly across her face. As a Mord’Sith, her life had structure, she knew her role. Life with Kahlan was a daily battle with the unknown, battling the forces outside and those within. Kahlan asked a lot of Cara, most of all, she asked for Cara’s faith. A belief definitely not ingrained in the Mord’Sith.

Yet, her thoughts couldn’t help but go back to that day in the forest. When the battle had been lost and Cara thought her end would come at the hands of a Confessor. The end did come, with her back pressed to a tree, Kahlan’s body pressed flush against her, teeth making claiming marks against Cara’s jaw as Kahlan’s hand possessed her.

Lips pursed, the revelation reverberating through her body like the long chime of a church bell, Cara set her resolve. “I am yours.”

“Yes,” Kahlan exhaled in relief. “Now, we must leave for Aydindril.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I am yours. You..” Cara’s head tilted as she watched her fingers weave into the laces of Kahlan’s bodice. “Are mine. And I want you,” she said, eyes flicking up to Kahlan’s, filled with hunger and desire. “Now.”

Cara had become very deft at undoing Kahlan’s laces. And Kahlan inhaled deeply, licking her lips at the feel of gloved fingers on her breast. “Cara..” she breathed, eyes already fluttering. “We don’t have time for this.”

“In my experience,” she paused to watch Kahlan hiss as she tweaked the nipple in her grasp. “There’s always time. And if there isn‘t, you make it. So, this is me, making time.” She leaned in, wrapping her other hand around Kahlan’s waist and pulling Kahlan close as her lips found the rapidly increasing pulse point. “With the woman who wishes to carry my child.”

“You’re right,” Kahlan sighed as Cara lowered her onto the soft grass. “We have time.”

Kahlan knew. The way the air grew heavy before a storm, she knew another war was coming, the final war before a lasting peace. A war in which she and Cara battled opposite the man they once served blindly, against Kahlan’s own family. She thought briefly of the things she would have to do upon arriving in Aydindril, such as ordering the assassination of one Zeddicus Zorander, before the wizard could ‘undo’ all that she’d so calculatingly begun. There was also Darken Rahl and the Mord’Sith that would become the Mother Confessor’s. There was the new Seeker, along with the soon-to-be replaced Seeker, Richard.

More than anything, Kahlan’s thoughts drifted to the child, hers and Cara’s. A new bloodline that would solidify a lasting piece in the Midlands. Because, Kahlan knew. She not only had time on her side, she also had the Prophets.

 _For peace to rise,  
The Seeker shall fall.  
When red binds to white,  
And rules them all._

END


End file.
